How I start my day

I don't wake up so much as reboot -- and some mornings, I boot into safe mode.

When I wake up, my brain is already searching for an axis of spin. I used to check my e-mail. Now I open Emacs. It doesn’t quiet my thoughts, but it gives them better access. And that’s enough.

My mornings start in a single file — a kind of personal logbook that includes the date, the current “season” (which I made up), and a quote if something’s rattling around in my head. But the heart of it is my Morning Check-In, a short, structured journal that helps me get traction before the day picks up speed.

It opens with a key-chord (Ctrl-m j), and it looks something like this:

	  * 1744548738 Sun Apr 13 07:52:19 CDT 2025
	  Today is Pungenday, the 30th day of Discord in the YOLD 3191

	  * Temporal Context: 💤 The Dream Archive / 🌫️ The Drift Season

	  Time is an illusion. Morning doubly so.
          -- Douglas Adams

	  * Morning Check-In

	  ** Snapshot
	  - Mood: solid 6.5
	  - Energy: buzzy but uneven
	  - Mental Weather: cloudy with flashes of overplanning

	  ** What's Swirling?
	  - Need to get the ceiling trim up before anyone sees it
	  - That API thing I was supposed to circle back to last week
	  - Also I kinda want to rearrange the entire Emacs config again?

	  ** What’s Pulling Me?
	  - Drawn toward: fixing everything at once
	  - Avoiding: actual focused effort on one thing
	  - Might be better to: choose one low-stakes task and finish it

	  ** Bias / BS Radar
	  - [X] Impostor vibes
	  - [ ] Negativity loop
	  - [ ] I’m fine™ when I’m not
	  - [X] Too many tabs open
	  - [ ] Just tired, actually

	  ** Reset Options (Pick One or Skip)
	  - [ ] Coffee + walk
	  - [X] 5-minute scribble
	  - [ ] Name the feeling and move on
	  - [ ] Let it spin
	  - [ ] Something sillier: Refile old inbox notes as if they're lost scrolls

	  ** Tiny Wisdom
	  - You’ve done hard things before. Finish one thing today, even if it’s tiny.
      

I make no particular effort to fill out every line. Some days I skip the wisdom. Some days I just click a checkbox and move on. But even the act of opening this slows me down enough to think instead of flail. It reminds me I don’t have to solve everything — I just have to listen long enough to figure out where I am.

In itself, this isn't a lifehack productivity system. It's just a ritual that meets me where my mind already is: in motion, a little chaotic, but reachable.

If your mornings feel like being dragged behind a truck made of stray thoughts and browser tabs, maybe try a check-in of your own. Doesn't have to be mine. Certainly doesn’t have to be in Emacs. But Emacs gives me the right mix of rhythm and resistance — just enough friction to keep me from skidding out.

How I start my day isn’t perfect. But it’s mine; it works; and it helps me lean into focus.

Why I think this works

Look, I’m not running a lab here, or claiming universal truth. But for a brain like mine — fast, nonlinear, distractible, always mid-thought — this little ritual helps. It doesn’t fix everything, but it tilts the odds in my favor.

Here’s what I’ve noticed:

• It limits decision fatigue. First thing in the morning, everything is a choice — and every choice burns energy. This check-in keeps me from spending that energy before I even brush my teeth. I know what I’m doing. I don’t have to invent it from scratch. Later on, I'll talk about the "Better-To" system I use to reduce decision fatigue even more.
• It regulates my emotions without me trying to “fix” them. Just naming what’s going on — “cloudy with flashes of overplanning,” say — gives me some distance. It’s not a meltdown, just the weather.
• It gives me a foothold in the day. ADHD can make every task feel like a coin toss — will I follow through or vanish into browser tabs? This morning log gives me something I already know how to do. One win before the world starts spinning sets the tone for the rest of the day.
• It builds habits the only way they stick for me: through rhythm, not pressure. Because it’s tied to something I already love (Emacs), it doesn’t feel like “extra.” It’s just how the day starts, like a cup of coffee for my brain.
• It’s mine. This format, this system, this language — it’s shaped around how I actually think. Not some productivity guru’s fantasy of discipline. That’s why I keep coming back to it: It fits.

So no — it’s not a cure. But it’s a kind of clarity. And for a mind like mine, clarity is gold.